


a blanket that has arms to hold you when you are sad, now that's what I call a comforter

by abriata



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Charity Hugs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 22:50:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5182601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abriata/pseuds/abriata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a sign between them, clutched tight at the top and proclaiming in garish red Comic Sans, <b>FREE HUGS for 50p donation.</b></p><p><em>Or:</em> Hugging Is Important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a blanket that has arms to hold you when you are sad, now that's what I call a comforter

"Come on!" the familiar voice calls. "It's for charity!"

Dan keeps his head ducked and hurries by, just like he has the last three days.

 

 

"Hugs for kids!" comes the next day's refrain. "Hugs for kids!"

Dan watches his feet, steps over a crack, avoids a soggy newspaper.

"I know you can hear me!"

That's new. Dan walks faster.

 

 

He didn't have to go that way over the weekend, but Monday forces him back to his usual route.

He doesn't hear any calling today, but he'd kept a watch out before he'd gotten close enough that eye contact became a risk, and he knows the lack of cajoling for hugs doesn't mean he's safe.

Shoes a couple feet in front of his are his only warning. Dan looks up.

"Hi!"

Dan drops his gaze to the side desperately.

"Thought you might try to dodge around me."

Dan shrugs and manages to unstick his tongue. "Might've," he agrees. "Didn't react quickly enough."

"Ah." There's a sign between them, clutched tight at the top and proclaiming in garish red Comic Sans, **FREE HUGS for 50p donation**. Dan focuses on that until it gets set aside.

"So listen, I'm doing this charity challenge—"

"I know," Dan blurts. "You're hugging people for a month and recording it. The donations and video proceeds are for the children's ward."

"You've been paying attention!" The sign gets bumped by an errant knee, falls over into the sludge on the sidewalk.

Dan watches the collapse and sympathizes.

"No," he says, shaking his head. "I saw your first video about it." He meets Phil's eyes finally, figures he can't embarrass himself more than this.

Phil's smile, friendly, brightens into beyond pleased. "You watch my videos? Or just that one?"

"Yeah, I subscribe," Dan says, shrugging.

"Well, now I definitely have to hug you," Phil says. "I never get to meet fans like this."

Since Phil has over a million subscribers and Dan would be willing to bet at least a third of Manchester's teenage population is aware of him, Dan knows that can't be true. Probably Phil means he never meets fans like Dan – a guy, or older than 16, or awkwardly avoidant, or all three.

"I don't have 50p," Dan says.

Phil looks mildly reproachful. "Free, come on," he says.

Before Dan can say anything else, he's got Phil's arms wrapping around him and squeezing. Dan's arms get trapped, which is probably a good thing. Otherwise he might've done something embarrassing, like try to shove Phil away or commit an overly elaborate back-patting ritual. Instead he just stands there and kind of leans forward, because he can't help himself, and Phil is a really good hugger. He just wraps himself around Dan and holds on.

Dan supposes it's nice to know he lives up to his reputation.

When Phil releases him, Dan's the one who takes a stumbling step backwards. Phil laughs, not meanly, but clearly at Dan, and it's enough to make Dan's face feel hot. “What’s your name?”

"Fuck off," Dan says automatically, in response to the laugh, then says, “Dan.” He cringes almost immediately after, but Phil only laughs again.

"It was nice to meet you," Phil says. "I had been wondering who would try so hard to avoid donating money to a children's ward. It's nice to know it was only personal."

Dan knows a dismissal when he hears one. "Yeah, well," he says weakly, shrugging. "Thanks, I guess. Bye."

"Oh," Phil says, startled. "I didn't mean—"

"Yeah, I know," Dan says hurriedly, though he's not sure what he's claiming to know. His mind is basically a loop of _hugging_ and _I'm taller than him, wtf_ and _he's been noticing me_.

"Okay," Phil says, sounding disappointed. Dan, having successfully started to turn away instead of just backing up slowly like a lumbering moron, doesn't glance back at Phil to check. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow!"

Dan is going to have to find a different route to class.

 

 

He doesn't.

 

 

"They can't be free if you charge for them," Dan says the next day, and immediately wishes he hadn't. 

Phil had been talking to a small group of girls and hadn't noticed Dan come up beside him. He turns, surprised, then his face lights up in recognition. "Dan!"

Dan ignores the flutter of pride that Phil's remembered his name and nods.

Phil blinks, tilts his head, frowns briefly. "What did you say about free of charge?"

"Your sign," Dan says. Phil obviously remade it, red Comic Sans back to offensive brightness on grime-free white background. "It says free hugs, but they're not free if you make people pay 50p."

God, he sounds like a twat.

Phil looks down at his sign, puzzling that out, then smiles. "But I'm not charging for the hugs for me, that's what I mean."

"But that's not how it works," Dan argues. He's not sure why he's being so insistent about this, or why he even stopped to talk to Phil at all. He glances at the camera on its tripod a few feet away.

Phil laughs. "Alright," he says. "Next time you can make my sign."

Another set of girls comes up and drops their donation in Phil's tin. "You're AmazingPhil off Youtube," one of them says excitedly.

Phil turns his smile on them. "I am!"

"I should go," Dan mutters.

"Just a second," Phil says to the girls. He grabs Dan's shoulder. "You haven't had your hug yet."

Dan opens his mouth to protest, because he still hasn't donated, but Phil is hugging him quick and tight before he can say anything. This time Phil's arms go below Dan's, and Dan's kind of windmill around stupidly.

"See you tomorrow," he tells Dan, releasing him and stepping back.

Dan nods automatically while Phil turns to the girls and says, "Hello! What're your names?"

 

 

There really aren't any other convenient routes to his class.

Or, well, Dan's not willing to go an extra few minutes out of his way just to avoid admittedly pleasant hugs.

 

 

The next day Dan gets to Phil just in time to watch him tuck a girl under his chin. She can't be more than fourteen, and her boyfriend isn't any older. He gets a hug from Phil too, then they clasp hands while Phil says goodbye. The girl waves at Dan when she notices him hovering, and then they're gone.

"It'll be a really cute vid," Dan says, as if he knows anything about making videos. But he sort of does – he's watched Phil's enough to imagine how this one will turn out, all the screenshots and clips of smiling cute teenagers hugging Phil and dropping their spare change into the tin.

"I hope so," Phil says. "I'll try."

Dan nods. He senses a looming awkward silence and tries to avert it. He blurts out, "I've been watching you since 2009."

Great. That didn't sound horrendous at all. Bad enough to reveal it, and in the worst phrasing possible. _Watching him?_ He could've said, Subscribed to your channel. Could've said, Watching your _vids_ , at least.

Phil's eyes go wide. Dan winces.

"Wow," Phil says. "That's—"

And then he's hugging Dan again, wrapping his arms around Dan's middle and squeezing. Dan feels Phil's hair brush against his cheek, hears Phil's excited little wheeze of breath, like he's the one being squashed. Helplessly, Dan wraps his own arms around Phil and squeezes back.

They hug for probably too long, because Dan never really knows how you're supposed to know it's been long enough, but Phil doesn't seem bothered when he finally steps back. In fact, he's grinning.

"So you do know how to hug!"

Dan forgets to be embarrassed and self-conscious for a minute, because that is _so insulting_. Hugging is literally an instinctive motion. He's pretty sure.

"Hey!" he says. "Just because I don't like hugging strangers!"

Phil's smile falters, which was the last thing Dan wanted. "I'm sorry—" Phil starts.

"No, it's fine," Dan says over him. "I just wasn't sure, you know." He shrugs.

Phil nods like he does know. Weirdly, Dan thinks he might.

 

 

Dan has started to come to terms with the fact that he's going to come by every day until Phil tells him to stop. He's not proud of it, but he's accepting it.

Phil doesn't tell him to stop.

 

 

On Thursday, the second Thursday since Phil started, Phil finally asks him direct questions. Maybe he's decided Dan won't run off. Maybe he's just tired of being stalked and not gaining any information in return.

Dan doesn't mind answering most questions.

Most.

"Really!" Phil insists. "Why'd you avoid me?"

They're on hour two – or, well, Dan is, since Phil has been here at least an hour longer – and they're about to go home. They always walk to the same tube station, and then take separate trains. Dan is counting down the time remaining, because this is the _eighth time Phil has asked_. At least.

"Were you afraid I'd be disappointing in real life, compared to what you expected?" Phil asks. "I've had that happen before."

Dan doesn't know whether Phil means he's met people he admired and been disappointed by them, or whether Phil means fans have met him and been disappointed by Phil, but it's depressing either way.

And seriously, the eighth time.

"I didn't want to meet you and act like a twat," Dan admits. "See how well that worked out."

"You're not a twat," Phil assures him. There's a clatter of coins into the tin. Dan sees a girl standing there, flushed, while her friend stands behind her with an iPhone cradled surreptitiously in her palm. Phil sees it too, and waves towards the girl and the camera.

"Oh my god," the girl who deposited the change says. "I'm so sorry, I just—"

" _Wow_ ," Dan says, because there are _limits_.

"It's all right!" Phil assures her, and then gives her and her friend a hug. He even has Dan take a picture of the three of them, possibly as punishment. _Dan_ doesn't have a picture with Phil.

After the girls leave, Phil says, "Well, you're not _much_ of one, at least."

"What," Dan says, and then remembers what they'd been talking about. "Excuse me, _Phil_?"

Phil raises his eyebrows and makes a face like he's being mysterious and judgmental. Dan likes all his faces a lot.

 

 

The next day, Dan says, "Really, we've got to change the phrasing on your sign."

"If it isn't my number one fan," Phil says, and Dan can hear the smile in his voice even though he's currently facing a girl and her friend.

The girl and her friend are staring at Dan with an uncomfortable level of interest, and Dan thinks he recognizes them, like he's seen them here before. If he has, that means they've definitely seen him with Phil before.

Which would explain why they're staring. Dan decides he doesn't care, really, and smiles at them. One of them blushes, and they both look at each other and giggle.

Phil is watching him.

"What?" Dan asks, self-conscious.

Phil shakes his head. "My sign?" he prompts.

"It's wrong," Dan says.

"So you've said," Phil says. He manages to sound long-suffering without any change in expression.

Dan narrows his eyes.

"What should it say?" Phil asks, relenting, but he sounds indulgent.

"Hugs for 50p, if we're being technical," Dan says.

"That sounds commercial and misses the whole point," Phil protests.

"Donate - get free hugs," Dan says.

Phil says nothing, but his eyebrows say a lot.

" _Charity hugs_ ," Dan says, exasperated.

"That makes it sound like I'm the charity case!" Phil says.

"Well," Dan says, drawn out.

"Or maybe the person I'm hugging is," Phil says pointedly.

"Uncalled for," Dan says, and loses the argument about the sign.

 

 

It should not be possible for it to get colder, since they're heading toward the end of February, but somehow, it seems to be managing. Dan thinks some of the magic is starting to wear off for Phil, because he's less enthusiastic about soliciting hugs from people every day, but any time someone comes up, especially a fan, he has a reserve of energy ready.

Dan takes to picking up coffee for them both every afternoon, and stops worrying that Phil is only talking to him because Dan is pathetic and keeps coming back.

 

 

At the end of the third week, Dan takes the initiative and brings a sign for Phil. He had it professionally printed, like Phil's other signs, but professionally designed, too. It is very technically correct: **Hugs for Charity - Donate 50p for the Children's Ward**

It looks like an advertisement.

Phil keeps a very straight face when Dan presents it to him. Dan struggles to do the same.

Very politely, Phil says, "Thank you very much. It's lovely."

He turns to the camera, holds it up in clear view, makes an exaggerated expression of sadness, gestures towards Dan and makes a face of _pity_ , and then drops the sign unceremoniously onto the damp cold of the sidewalk.

Dan makes an exaggerated expression of outrage back, playing along with Phil for the camera.

Phil makes another pitying expression and says, "Sorry about the lovely sign," and hugs Dan in consolation. Dan stands there and takes it like the dignified person he is.

Then Phil goes back to parading his Comic Sans monstrosity around. Dan has to admit, it does sort of fit the brand.

 

 

"Tomorrow's the last day!" Phil announces when Dan comes up to him on the last Thursday of the month.

"Last day for what?" Dan asks, playing dumb.

"For hugging people!" Phil says, looking expectantly at Dan to join in his happiness.

"Phil," Dan says, serious and disapproving. "Aren't you happy to have a chance to raise money for a good cause? How can you be glad it’ll be over, just because you've had to suffer a few wet feet?"

"That might've convinced me," Phil says without a pause, "a week or two ago. But I know you now. You've got to be glad you won't have to stand out here anymore too."

"Technically, I don’t have to stand out here right now, if I don’t want to," Dan says.

Phil grins at him in a way that makes Dan feel like he's let something slip, even though what he said was _true_.

"Take your coffee, I'm not here to cater to you," Dan says grumpily, shoving Phil's cup into his hands.

Phil keeps grinning at him, even as he takes a drink and a little bit steam escapes the join of the cup and his mouth. It curls up his face, to the glasses he's wearing today, and they fog up. Phil, still drinking, makes a plaintive noise and tips his head all the way towards Dan, nearly spilling his coffee in the process.

"Honestly," Dan huffs, and takes his sleeve and wipes Phil's glasses for him.

Phil makes a gratitude noise and straightens back up.

The second building down, a girl is leaning against the brick with her phone angled up. Dan thinks she's taking pictures of them, and tucks his hand into his pocket.

Noticing her, Phil asks, "Do you mind?"

"No," Dan lies.

 

 

It's a lie because: Dan goes online. He follows Phil on Twitter (and Phil follows him back, has since the end of week two). He sees the tweets, the photos and the questions. He knows people have started to wonder if they're dating. People post pictures of them, retweet pictures of them, because they're pictures _of them_ , and not because they're pictures of Phil.

Dan minds, because it seems rude, and because it's not true. If it were true, it would still be rude, but.

Right now, it's salt in the wound, really.

 

 

It's the last day.

Dan, because sometimes he's an idiot, hadn't thought about what that meant until he walked up behind Phil on the sidewalk and realized he wouldn't be wasting two hours a day staring at Phil's hunched back ever again.

Phil is very excited.

"What's wrong?" he asks, when he realizes Dan _isn't_ practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. His breath comes out in plumes.

"Nothing," Dan says, because he has some pride left.

Phil looks at him closely, but he lets it go.

They spend the rest of the early evening huddled together, because most of the appeal has worn off for the regular passersby, and any fan who paid close enough attention to figure out where Phil was hosting his hugfest had already stopped by days or weeks ago.

When it's time to pack up, Phil heaves a sigh of mingled relief and sadness and hands the sign to Dan so he can pack away the camera and dismantle the tripod. When he leans over, one of the markers he carries for signing autographs for fans falls out of his pocket.

Dan picks it up, and, at a higher pitch, says, "AmazingPhil, can I get an autograph? Please?"

Phil rolls his eyes. "No, you cannot," he says primly.

Problem is, Dan is sort of serious. He doesn't have Phil's number, he doesn't even have a _photo_ of the two of them, for God's sake, and he doesn't know how to ask.

"But _Phil_ ," he whines, still putting on a stupid voice.

"Okay," Phil says abruptly, turning quickly enough that he startles Dan a little. 

Phil takes the marker from Dan, and then the sign, blocking Dan's view of everything with his body while he scribbles something. When he straightens back up his smile has dropped, and he looks at Dan almost nervously.

"How about this?" He turns the sign around.

Below Phil's new scribble of a word, everything after **FREE** has been scratched out. Now it just says,

**FREE** _**kisses** _  


in messy handwriting.

"Only if you want," Phil says, looking worried. He tries to smile. "I don't know if you're the kissing strangers type."

"Definitely not," Dan says, and watches Phil's face, but Phil doesn't fall for it; is already stepping toward him and smiling. "But I suppose you're not a stranger," Dan says, and leans forward.

Phil has the same idea, and they bump into each other, sign caught between them. Phil's smiling enough the kiss doesn't quite work right. Dan expected nothing less. They figure it out, Dan's hand on Phil's neck and Phil's hands on Dan's face, and then they're kissing properly and it works quite well, until all the disapproving clucking starts from passersby.

Phil steps back with a laugh. "That's not going in the video."

"I'm pretty sure there's a contingent of your fans who'll be very disappointed about that," Dan says.

"They can wait until we do the boyfriend tag," Phil says.

"I'm sorry, was that a question?" Dan asks, because Phil was right, and he is a little bit of a twat sometimes.

"You're the one who's stood around with me every day, providing coffee and a hovering presence anytime I hug someone," Phil says serenely.

"I have not," Dan complains, but, well.

"I'm really glad you kept coming back," Phil confesses, spilling it out like an accident. "I kept offending you the first few times we met, so I was sure I'd scare you off."

"You didn't offend me," Dan protests. "I kept saying really stupid shit to you."

"No!" Phil says. "You're great!"

Dan blinks at him and then, helplessly, starts to laugh. "We are both losers."

"Hey," Phil complains. "I tried my best!" But he's laughing too. "Do you _really_ want me to ask you to be my boyfriend? Because I can! _Dan_ —"

"God no," Dan says, cringing.

"Exactly," Phil says, with that smile he uses when Dan has admitted something he didn't mean to.

"Exactly," Dan echoes.

 

 

Dan keeps the sign.

Phil would've thrown a fit if he hadn't.

 

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to [popsongnation](http://archiveofourown.org/users/popsongnation), without whom this would probably still be here, but definitely not this soon


End file.
